


but this is my home & you're all my family

by softdadironman



Series: sit next to me [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Child Peter Parker, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Family Feels, Feels, Fights, Fluff, Foster Care, Hurt, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Avengers, Protective Tony Stark, Team as Family, Teen Peter Parker, Wholesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 08:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19808179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softdadironman/pseuds/softdadironman
Summary: When Tony Stark took Peter in, a lot of people questioned it, but no one dares to tell a billionaire what he can't do.No one dared until the new Secretary took notice. Now, CPS is breathing down their necks, and Peter, well, he may just have gotten himself sent away.Why would the Avengers adopt a random child, after all? For charity? Out of pity? Peter seems to think so.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> summary bad, sorry, it's hard to explain lol

When Peter was in elementary school, he had wretched manners. Mary and Richard didn’t teach him much at all (after all, they were barely home due to work), so by the time he ended up in May and Ben’s care, he was in awful shape. May and Ben had wanted to send him to cotillion school like the other unruly kids his age, but the fees were too costly. 

May opted for teaching him manners herself. After she came home from work exhausted, she stayed up with Peter to teach him the proper ettiquette. She taught him the little she knew about dancing (except Ben ended up telling Peter to scrap everything she taught him on dancing as she was notoriously bad), table eating, polite small talk, etc. She did her best. 

May didn’t fail Peter at all. He was civilized; he always made sure to address someone politely. 

All manners seemed to fly out the door when the Secretary of the Navy sat seated across from him in his living room. The others weren’t in the room, but he knew Tony must be trying to spy through Friday’s cameras. 

They sat, staring at each other. Peter every so often looked over his shoulder to the corridor doors. 

“Hello, Peter,” she said at last. 

“Hi,” he greeted meekly, “How are you, Madam Secretary?” 

She smiled. “It’s quite alright, Peter. You can relax.” He didn’t. His shoulders grew more tense with every aching second. 

Pepper had assured him it wasn’t anything Spider-Man related, but he couldn’t think of any other reason she wanted to talk with him. He wanted to ask so badly, but he didn’t want to be rude. 

“I’m doing fine,” she replied, looking him over, noticing how tense he is. She scribbles something on her clipboard. “How are you, Peter?” 

“I’m good,” he replied, dazed. 

She leaned forward in her seat. “Really, Peter, tell me how you feel.” 

Peter shifted. “I’m doing good,” he confirmed, thoroughly confused at this point. 

The door opens, and Peter jumps up in hopes it’s one of the Avengers. It’s not. 

A woman walks in and takes a seat in one of the chairs next to the Secretary. She pulls a notebook out of her purse but doesn’t speak. 

“How is school?” she asked. “You make good grades?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, nodding. “I’m barely passing AP Lang with a B.” Stupid. Why’d he even say that? 

“A B sounds just fine. Do you… do you feel pressured?” 

“Well, it’s high-school, and if I don’t do well, that’d be bad. So, yes? Unless you’re asking about, like, drugs because, ma’am, I would never be pressured into that kind of thing. You could drug test me, and I would pass, I promise. I’ll pee in a cup if you--” He knows that Tony, who has to be watching this monstrosity, is groaning. 

“I believe you,” she said, jotting something else down on her clipboard. “You in any extracurriculars?” 

_ Why is the Secretary of the Navy asked me if I do any sports? Is she on to me?  _

He gulps. “Uh, I used to do band? I’m on the Academic Decathalon team, and I’m a Mathlete.” 

“Smart kid,” she said, writing another line down. “How’s your home life?” 

“It’s good. I like it here,” he said, smiling gently. His shoulders drop a little bit. “Mr. Wilson is the  _ best  _ cook. I know that you probably have professional chefs cook for you on the basis,” he says, pausing and hoping that wasn’t rude, “but he’s amazing! His meatloaf is the bomb!” 

_ Hey, Peter. Are you really talking about Sam’s meatloaf to her? Really?  _

Peter wants to hit himself so badly. 

“So the food’s nice,” she said, stopping him. “How’s living here?” 

“It’s a lot bigger than my old house,” he explained, gesturing with his hands. “It’s kind of like living in a mall.” 

The silent woman leaned over to whisper something in the Secretary’s ear. She nodded then turned to Peter. “May we see your room?” 

“Uh, it’s a little messy,” he said, praying to God he doesn’t have a suit laying around. He doesn’t move, but the two women are already getting out of their chairs. Guess it wasn’t really a yes or no question. 

He ends up walking down the hallway and opened his door. His room is a little messy, but it’s not that bad. He notices his Spider-Man suit has been moved, which was probably Nat’s doing. Thank God. 

The two women stumble in and look around. “Should I give a tour?” he jokes, and the silent woman gives him a deathstare. “Uh, so this is my bedroom.” He cringes at the Avengers posters plastered around his room. 

“Stark designed this?” the Secretary asked. 

“He did,” he replied. “He and Happy did with May’s help.” 

She clicks her pen. Peter pales. “May Parker was your caretaker, yes?” 

Peter nods. “Her and my Uncle, yes ma’am.” 

“And now you’re living with the Avengers?” 

He laughed awkwardly. “It’s a little strange, I know, but I interned under Mr. Stark for a while, and he let me stay here after Aunt May left.” 

“Your boss offered you a place?” 

He nodded, feeling a little faint at her disapproving face. “Yes, ma’am, he’s very generous.” 

“Stark often donates to charities, I see. Are you… one of them?” The silent woman looks up at the Secretary and shakes her head. 

Clearing her voice, she fills in for her, “Mr. Parker, why did Tony Stark take over your guardianship?” 

“I think that’s a question for him,” he replied. His chest tightened. The questions kept getting worse and worse, and he hated it. 

“Yes, but we want to know from you,” the Secretary elaborates. “Why do you think he offered a place for you?” 

“Mr. Stark is nice,” he said. 

The Secretary clucked her tongue, and they both wrote something down. Peter feels like he fucked up, but he doesn’t understand why. 

“Do you feel cared for?” 

“Ma’am, they do everything for me. They gave me a place to stay, pay for my school fees, feed me, buy me clothes. They do more than enough.” 

“Yes, but do they care for you? Do you feel loved and safe?” she asked. 

Peter straightened. “Ma’am,” he says coldly, “Mr. Stark would never hurt me.” 

She raises her hands in defense. “I apologize if I offended you.” She didn’t sound sorry. “But I think his intentions may be askew.” She pulls a file out of her purse and puts away her notebook. “In the past few months, you’ve had some prescriptions written out. You poisoned yourself just last week and almost died last month.” 

“It was an accident,” he said quickly. 

“Do you ever have an urge to harm yourself, Mr. Parker?” the assistant asked, cold blue eyes staring into his soul. 

“No, no,” he said. 

“Do you pick fights?” she asked. “A victim of bullying?” 

“No, not at all,” he said, trying to cover his identity. No fighting. He’s just a nerd, nothing more. 

“You have bruises,” she said. “From what?” 

“Oh,” he said, chuckling. “I’m clumsy.” 

She writes something down, and his heart drops. 

“Peter, I know you like it here,” she said gently, “But what do you think about moving somewhere else?” 

Peter’s heart stopped. “What?” he asked, blood running cold. “What? I don’t understand. I--”

“It’s okay, Peter. You’d be moved into a foster home,” the Secretary said, but Peter shook his head. 

“No, ma’am, I… I’m okay here.” 

“You live in the home of the Avengers, Mister Parker,” the assistant said. “It’s unsafe for a kid, and certainly no place. You need to be in a supporting home full of love.” 

“It’s safe,” he said. “They’re the Avengers; they save lives everyday.” 

“And isn’t their home a target?” the secretary asked. “I’m working with this team, and I need to know they aren’t putting a teenager’s life at risk.”

“I’m safe,” he repeated. “I’m safe.” 

“You need a parent’s love, Mr. Parker,” the assistant said. “A team of superheroes is not acceptable. You’d do much better in a home with a loving mother and father.” 

“I--” 

“Peter, it’s what’s best.” 

“But they signed for me,” he protested. “He signed the papers. He’s my guardian.” 

“Even billionaires can’t have everything they want,” she said softly. “Nobody could tell him no, but don’t worry, we’ll fix it.” 

“Fixing it” apparently means tearing Peter’s world apart. 

Surely, they wouldn’t let this happen. They couldn’t be doing this. 

Right? 

“It was a pleasure talking to you, Peter,” she said, moving to the door. “We’ll be in touch.” 

The second they left, Peter sprinted until he found the room the Avengers had been ushered into it. “What… What just happened?” 

Tony, wearing a solem face, crossed his arms over his chest. “Kid, you…” He broke off, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh, Pepper, please, please, fix this.” 

“Fix what?” Clint groaned. “You can’t fix this. This is, like, if someone’s body got chopped into a million pieces. There’s no fixing that.” 

“Don’t say that,” Natasha said, looking grim herself. “It’s not that bad.” 

“Oh, it’s bad,” Bruce said, biting his fingernails. “This is bad. This is really bad.” 

“Mr. Stark, what’d I do?” he asked, going frigid. “I… I don’t know what went wrong.” 

He looked to Bucky for comfort, but he was sunk in a chair across the room. Steve was whispering something to him, but he didn’t even recognize his existence. 

Tony couldn’t make eye contact with him either. 

“That woman,” Sam explained, making his way across the room to grip his shoulders, “was with CPS. She’s moving you into Foster care.” 

“That’s crazy!” Peter exclaimed. “I’m… I’m fine here!” 

“You did almost die twice while living here,” Tony said. “Maybe it would be better.” 

Peter took a step back. 

“That’s crazy,” Natasha countered. 

“Is it?” Clint reasoned. “We’re not the most conventional.” 

“I like it here,” Peter said desparately. “I really do.”

“I know you do,” Natasha said softly. “But it may be best.” 

“You think so?” Peter asked, gulping. 

He looked to Bucky in the corner. “Sergeant Barnes?” 

Bucky couldn’t even look at him. Steve broke away from him to whisper to Peter. “He’s okay, Peter. Don’t worry.” 

He couldn’t tear his eyes off of him. The aura in the room… it was choking Peter. He couldn’t breathe. 

“You all think so?” he asked, voice breaking. 

Tony huffed. “Peter, we’ve been over this a million times. You… You’re not a charity case. You do know that, right?” 

Peter nodded. “Yeah, we’re teammates.” 

Tony clenched his fist and sunk into a chair. “Peter…” 

He looked up to the others for help. 

“That’s all?” Sam asked. 

“Well, yeah, it’s not like you could let me live on the streets,” he snorted. “You’re nice people. You wouldn’t do that.” 

Tony looked away. “I’ll see to it that your new foster parents are nice.” 

_ This isn’t what I want. But if this is what Mr. Stark wants…  _

“Okay,” Peter said. “I’ll go pack.” 

When no one said anything, he took one last look at the distraught looking avengers before leaving the room.


	2. everything stays

Contrary to what he said, Peter had no intention of packing. He slipped into his Spider-Man suit and into the kitchen. 

Now, technically he was grounded from the kitchen, but he wasn’t about to trudge himself upstairs into that uncomfortable room to ask one of the mopey adults to supervise his cooking. 

Instead he asked Karen and Friday to keep a close eye on him as he prepared some soup for the Leeds household. But truth be told, he didn’t need it. Soup was the one thing he could cook. 

Like his aunt, Peter got sick often. He takes after her in many ways. There were many days where May was working overtime and he had to fix himself soup when he was sick. Likewise, there were days May came home at ungodly hours, and he made soup to surprise her. Even more often, though, the both of them were overworked and they made the sickly efforts of making soup. 

Point is, he knew how to make a damn good pot of chicken noodle soup. 

He poured it into a couple of thermoses before safely securing them in his backpack. When he opened a window, he prepared to call out, “I’m going out,” but didn’t. 

The Leeds were now residing in a cramped apartment. Peter changed on the fire escape before slipping inside Ned and Ethan’s bedroom. 

He quietly snuck past into the living room where Ned and MJ were passed out on the couch. MJ held a sleeping baby in her arms while Ned’s mother was locked in her bedroom. It was probably the first break she’d had in a while. 

Peter wasn’t going to wake any of them, but the baby beat him to it. MJ snapped awake. Peter made his way around the couch to take the baby from her. “Peter,” she rasped, barely forming a smile. Beside her, Ned jolted awake. A blanket on the floor started to stir, and Ned’s younger sister sat up. 

“Peter!” the little girl greeted, flashing a toothy smile. She ran up to give Peter a hug. 

“Hi, Ada,” he greeted, ruffling her black hair. “You’ve managed to escape unscathed, I see.” 

“Yup, I’ve been taking good care of them.” 

“That’s not true,” Ned said, coughing. “She almost killed Ethan. He almost ate the wrong pill.” 

“I can’t read, Ned,” she said, punching him. 

Peter paled. “Should I stay the night? I can help?”

“Go get us McDonald’s,” Ned said pitifully. “Mom’s wallet is on the counter.” 

Peter rolled his eyes. “I have something better than McDonald’s.” He slipped off his backpack and rummaged through for his thermos. “I have soup.” 

“You mean…  _ the  _ soup?” Ned cried, reaching for it. 

Ned climbed over MJ, who shrieked. 

With a careful grip on the child in his lap, Peter pulled out a second thermos for MJ, who gladly accepted it. “What’s so good about Parker’s soup?” 

Ned gasped, putting a hand over his heart. “Michelle, it cures diseases.” He uncapped the thermos, not bothering to get a spoon. He straight up started drinking it. 

MJ cringed, grabbing a spoon from Peter. Ada tugged on Peter’s shirt. “I’m not sick, but can I try?” 

Peter handed her a smaller thermos. “You think I’d forget about you?” He poked her, sending her into a fit of giggles. “Although, you have to do me a teensy little favor. You think you can do it?” 

“Yes,” she hissed, latching on to him. 

“Alright, listen very carefully: I need you to deliver some to Ethan and your mother. Can you do that?” 

She nodded, grabbing the two thermoses and scampering off. 

Peter settled upon opening yet another thermos, one that was only broth. He grabbed a sippy cup from their kitchen and transferred it over. 

“Thanks, Pete,” Ned sighed, wiping his mouth. “You’re my hero.” 

“I save your life, and I don’t get a thank you, but I give you some soup, and I’m your hero?” 

“Shut up, Spider-Man,” Ned griped, throwing the cap at him. 

Peter hissed at him, looking both ways to make sure none of his siblings were listening. He looked down at the fussy child in his lap and covered his ears. “Shh, he’ll hear.” 

Ned rolled his eyes. “Jamie won’t tell anyone,” Ned said. 

“Yes, he will,” Michelle said. “I don’t trust him.” She narrowed her eyes. 

“He’s a baby,” he defended. “Shut up, and eat your soup.” 

Michelle did then, biting the spoonful of noodles. “Holy shit, this is good.” 

Peter sighed, yet again covering the baby’s ears. “MJ, please.” 

“Sorry, but this is amazing.” She pulled out her phone to tweet a picture of it to Gordan Ramsey. 

“Tell that to the Avengers. They don’t trust me after I poisoned myself with the polish,” he said, sinking into the couch. 

MJ gaped. “Ned, I thought you were kidding.” She punched Peter. “That’s hilarious, dude.” 

“Well, it got me grounded,” Peter said, even though he totally disregarded the rule already. 

Ned scoffed. “That’s still so weird, man. You got grounded by the Avengers! That’s… still strange. What parents.” 

Peter bit his lip and rested his head on the couch. “Well…” 

Ned and MJ both cooed at Peter. “What happened?” 

The baby, sensing Peter’s discomfort, started fussing again. He stood up with him and fed him while gently swaying. “I’m being moved into foster care.” 

“You got kicked out too?” MJ asked, raising her fist for a fist bump. Peter raised an eyebrow. She slowly lowered it. “Did you come out to them?” 

“Not gay, MJ,” he said, speaking softly. “And they’re not homophobic. Sometimes I think steve’s bi.” 

“So, why are you being kicked out? You mess up on a mission?” Ned asked. 

Once the baby quieted down and stopped drinking, he laid her down in her crib. He climbed back on the couch where Ned and MJ made room for him. He didn’t bother covering up with one of the snotty blankets. 

“It’s too strange,” he said, using Ned’s words. “A team of superheroes don’t make loving parents.” 

He said it, but they weren’t his words. It felt wrong on his tongue. 

“Since when?” Ned asked. 

“Well, since CPS said so,” he said, shrugging. “And they agreed with them, so…” 

MJ was deathly silent. During competitions, when she’s thinking really hard, she makes this face. When she’s in class and she’s drawing and focusing really hard on drawing, she makes this specific face. She’s deep in thought. 

She’s hard to read, but you can always tell when she’s thinking. Her forehead wrinkles and her mouth does this weird tilt. She’s studying Peter. 

He shrinks back from her. She leans forward, only an inch away from her. Neither of the boys dare to speak. 

Finally, at last to break the silence, MJ slaps him across the cheek. It doesn’t hurt much at all, but Peter still covers it with his hand. “Ow!” 

“Are you stupid?” she asked, cupping the sides of his face. “What are you?” 

“Mj.” 

“What are you?” 

“Not an idiot sandwich,” he sighs, slapping her hand away. “What’d I do?” 

MJ, exasperated, cocked her head at Ned. “Did he actually just ask that?” 

“He did,” he confirmed. 

Peter looked between his two friends. “Someone please explain.” 

“You’re not going anywhere.” 

“What?” Peter asked, lost. “I just told you…” 

“No, what the hell? They’re not kicking you out!” 

“MJ…” 

“No, it’s bullshit. You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to fight this.” 

“What?” he laughed. “I’m not fighting CPS or the Avengers. It’s what they want.” MJ slapped him. “Stop doing that!” 

“No, because you’re really going to let the one good thing that happened to you get away! Honestly, Peter, you… You’re one of those feelings people. You need people, and you need those people. It’s gross.” 

“It’s what they want.” 

“Well, what do you want?” Ned asked. 

What he wanted? 

Peter had to actually stop to think about it. 

“You’re such an idiot.” Despite her weak state, MJ did her best to shove Peter off the couch. Ned joined her, kicking him. 

Peter jumped in the air. “You guys kicking me out too?” 

“Yeah, go before you get sick,” Ned said, waving him off. 

“Get out,” MJ spat. “Go fix it. Think about what you want.” 

Peter didn’t know the first thing he wanted. 

Okay, well, that’s not entirely true. He doesn’t want to leave the Avengers compound. 

It’s nice there, and he likes them. But, Tony doesn’t think it’s a good place for him. 

Peter smacked himself in the face. 

He stands in front of the compound, but he can’t muster the courage to go back into that uncomfortable place. 

He takes a few deep breaths before slipping in through the window. The living room is empty, which is a rarity in itself. He checks the lab next before it occurs to him to ask Friday, who simply answers that everyone went to bed. 

It’s not even ten yet, but nobody is out. It’s weird and unsettling. 

Peter unclenches his fist, courage fleeting. He busts into his bedroom to find the posters stripped off. A couple of suitcases line the wall. 

It looks so… empty. 

“Friday…” 

“Boss went ahead and packed your things for you,” she replied in her chipper tone. “To make it easier for you.” 

“Oh.” 

Peter climbed into his bed and tried to process what was happening. 

The next morning, he stumbles into the kitchen. 

Sam and Steve aren’t returning from a run. No one’s cooking. No one’s fighting over the last muffin. 

It’s completely empty, almost as if the entire compound is deserted. 

A door opens, and Peter spins on his heels. “Mr. Stark--” His words fall short when he sees Happy holding up his keys. 

“I’m ready when you are,” he said, walking into his room to grab his suitcase. 

“Hap?” he called. Happy stopped. “I can get them.” He waves a thank you before slipping back outside into his car. 

Peter takes in the silence. He grabs one of the suitcases and decides it’s all he needs. He drags it back into the kitchen. 

In the living room, a pair of controllers are left out on the couch. Nobody had moved them since the night Sam, Bucky, and he had played. 

On the coffee table was a photo album, the one from Disney. 

On the recliner was his blanket, the one he’s had since he was a child. He grabs it with shaky hands. 

“Tony’s not good at goodbyes.” 

Peter releases his grip on the blanket. Clint walks up beside him. “Me neither.” 

“We want you to know that you’re still an Avenger,” he said gently. “When you inevitably start dying again, you can always come here.” 

He laughs. “Thanks, Mr. Barton.” 

Clint sobers. “And… we’re sorry.” 

Peter perks up. “What?” 

“We’re sorry, Peter. We, uh, we really should’ve done more for you, you know? We just… We didn’t know you were suffering here. We’re kind of oblivious.” 

“It’s okay,” Peter said, chest burning. 

“It’s not,” he said, smiling wryly. “To be fair, if you weren’t so polite, we could’ve had you in a better home a while ago.” 

It’s not… It’s not like that. 

“Well, I’ll see you around,” he says, and he’s already leaving. Just like that. 

Before he knows it, he’s all alone. 

Typically, kids aren’t so lucky. Kids, especially Peter’s age, don’t get adopted every often. However, the moment Happy drops him off at the orphanage, he’s being picked up by a foster couple. 

He knows it’s temporary. Foster couples don’t always choose to adopt. It’s kind of like babysitting in a way. 

Peter hates it. He hates standing in the doorway of this couple’s home. 

“I’m Alyssa, and this is Jeremy,” the wife greets, shaking her hand. “And, this is Ron.” The ten year old at his feet waves shyly. 

At dinner, they exchange nothing more than small talk. The couple is nice enough, but he can’t bring himself to focus on the conversation. The couple seems to understand, and they dismiss him. 

The bed set up for him is across from Ron’s. He’s sprawled out on the floor of his bedroom with his legos when Peter returns from the shower. 

“Hi,” he greets. 

“Hi,” Peter says back, falling on the bed. It feels like bricks. 

“Mom says you lived with Iron Man,” Ron says, carefully placing a lego brick on top of his house. 

“I did.” 

“But now you’re here.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Why?” 

Any other time, Peter would’ve humored him. He was great with kids, but right now he just wanted to curl up in his bed. “He thought it’d be best.” 

Ron burst out laughing. “You never listen to what adults think is best.” Peter flips over in his bed to look at Ron, who is holding his stomach from laughing so hard. “Parents aren’t always right.” 

“It’s what they wanted.” 

“Yeah, but you’re a kid,” he said, tossing a lego at him. “They’re supposed to spoil us, aren’t they?” 

Peter was about to shake this kid off as a spoiled rich kid, but then he stopped and he realized he was on to something. 

Wasn’t that what Tony was trying to tell him all along? That he was allowed to ask for stuff? To be spoiled? 

Just like that, it all made sense. 

He really was an idiot. 

“I got to go back.” 

“Yeah, you do,” he said, putting another brick on his house. “Can you get Iron Man’s autograph for me?” 

Peter jumped out of the bed and grabbed his suitcase. “Kid, I’ll get you all of the Avengers’s autographs,” he promised, opening the door and running down the stairs. 

He caught the couple at the dinner table. “Hi, Mrs. Alyssa and Mr. Jeremy, thank you so much for having me over for dinner, but I’ve got to go.” Without explaning, he opened the door and left. 

So, yeah, that was kind of stupid. But he didn’t care. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Mrs. Potts? Can I have a favor?” 

***

When Pepper walks into the meeting room, she’s confident. She’s unphased by the pressure of the women in front of her. She sits across from the Secretary like it’s no big deal. 

Beside her is a more phased Peter. He’s never been good at a poker face. Even during battle, he relies on his mask to hide his scared expression. It’s one less thing he has to worry about. 

Right now, though, every emotion on his face is readable. He’s nervous, but he’s chanting reassurance in his head to keep from falling apart. 

He dares not look at the Secretary nor the CPS worker beside her. 

“Thank you for coming,” Pepper says. She pulls some forms from her bag and slides them. 

“What’s this about?” she asked, looking to Peter. 

“I,” Peter starts, looking for Pepper for assurance, “I want to stay.” 

The Secretary looks to Pepper. “I know they’ve probably promised you lots of riches, but we’ve been over this. They can’t provide what you need. All the money in the world couldn’t give you that, Peter.” 

“Mr. Stark can,” he said. “And I don’t want to stay because of the riches… Or the big house.” 

“They’re swaying you with the nice food and the fancy house, Peter. You think it’s what you want.” 

“I don’t care,” he said, all manners thrown away. 

He was scared. 

Terrified, actually, but he knew what to do now. He knew that this is what he wanted. 

“I… I lived in a small apartment with my Aunt for a while. Neither of us were good cooks. It wasn’t fancy, but it had a warm fuzzy feeling to it. One of those feelings you can’t buy, as you mentioned. Not all the money in the world could buy you that. But… with May, I had it. And when I lost it, I was scared,” he said. He knew he was rambling, but he didn’t stop. It needed to be said. “I have that again. This house is huge, and the food’s nice, but it’s warm. It’s that fuzzy warm that I’ve missed. And, even if we were living in a cramped apartment and Sam couldn’t cook, I wouldn’t mind. I want to stay.” 

“Peter, we can’t--” 

“You heard him,” Pepper snapped. “He wants to stay.”

“Ma’am--” 

“Peter, go take your suitcase to your room.” 

When Peter didn’t move, Pepper made a quick motion with her hand. Peter reluctantly left, closing the door on a battle mode Pepper. 

The fight wasn’t over yet, and he knew that today wouldn’t be the last battle. 

While Pepper fought for him, he had something to do on his own. 

Walking on jelly filled legs, Peter carries himself into the living room. 

It’s quiet. The others are actually out today, but they speak in muffled voices. No one is on the couch playing. A maid is in the kitchen cooking something. Everyone’s sat at the table. 

Peter clears his throat. 

“Hi, everyone,” he greets. 

Tony doesn’t look at him. “Peter, back already?” Clint teased. “You dying this soon?” 

Peter smiled, but it fell. “I… I’m going to be selfish.” 

All eyes were on him. It was unnerving, especially when Peter’s about to make the boldest statement of his life. The last time he was this scared, he was asking out Liz. 

He couldn’t look at them. “I’m going to be selfish,” he repeated. 

“Okay,” Steve said, motioning for him to continue. 

“I liked living here,” he said. “I did. I wasn’t lying, and I know… I know that I am not always honest, but I want to stay. So, there’s that. I want to live here.” 

“Peter, we get it,” Tony said, finally turning to look at him. Peter can’t meet his eyes. “You don’t want to stay here. It’s okay.” 

Peter took in a deep breath. 

He was really doing this. 

“I want to live here,” he said. “I want to eat our meals together and go on trips. I want to play games on the couch. I want to make scrapbooks. I want… I want all that. I want you guys.” His vision started to blur, and before he knew it, tears were building in his eyes. “I wanted to live here like a family.” 

Tony paled as soon as the first tear fell. It was only one, slowly rolling down his cheek, but it was more than enough for Tony to climb out of his chair. 

“I’m being selfish!” he exclaimed. “That’s what I want. I want to be a spoiled, snot nosed brat. So, I don’t care if it’s not safe. I’m living here because I want to.” 

“Okay,” Tony said, nodding. 

“Okay?” Peter asked, face tense. 

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “If that’s what you want.” 

Like it was no big deal. He said it like Peter didn’t just pour his heart out to him. 

“Yeah, it’s what I want!” he huffed, stomping his foot. “I’m staying here.” 

“You can stop throwing a tantrum now,” Bucky said, speaking for the first time in a while. Steve gives him a shocked look. 

“He’s so angry,” Sam cooed. 

“I’m being spoiled,” he explained. “I get what I want. Screw CPS! I’ll fight every last one of them!” 

“Lucky for you, kid, but I’m Tony Stark. I do what I want.” 

“Well, good.” 

“Yeah, good. Because I want that to.” 

“Well, so do I!” 

“We’ve covered that, kid.” (Oh, and did Peter mention how much he loved being called that?) 

“Good because I’m living here now. If you have a problem with that, tough luck.” 

“I don’t.” 

“Well, I love you,” Peter confessed. “So good.” 

He looks at Tony, waiting for him to say it back. 

When he doesn’t, Rhodey slaps him upside the head. 

“Well, I, I, you…” Tony says, freezing. “He…” 

“We already got the ‘I love you,’” Sam says. Bucky nodded. 

“Say it back, coward!” Clint huffed, cupping his mouth. 

Tony looked to Peter. “You really going to make me say it?” 

“Tony,” Steve warned. 

“You’ll give me an ulcer,” he protested. “Peter, welcome home.” 

“No, you have to say it, or I’ll go,” Peter says, flashing the puppy dog eyes. “You said I could be selfish, so… Tell me how you feel.” 

Tony crossed his arms. “I’m not gonna say it now; everyone’s looking at me.” 

Peter laughed. “I’m kidding, Mr. Stark.” 

Tony relaxed. “Kid, I’m serious about the ulcer.” 

The maid set lunch down on the table. Peter took his spot gleefully. 

Things were back to normal. The loudness was back, just like that. 

“So Sam, Bucky, and Tony have gotten one,” Natasha said, counting on her fingers. “Where’s mine?” 

Peter blushed. “When did I tell Sam and bucky?” 

“Ha, you liars!” Clint hissed. 

“We’re not lying,” Bucky groaned. “Friday, show the clip.” 

She replayed it, and Peter sunk into his seat out of embarassment. 

“I was so tired; I don’t even remember,” he griped. “God…” 

“When did you become dotting uncles?” Bruce asked. 

“Dotting isn’t the word I’d use,” Natasha said. 

“They bully me!” Peter said, pointing a finger. 

“Yeah, but you  _ love  _ us,” Sam countered. Peter stuck his tongue out and almost tackled him. 

Yeah. Things were going to be just fine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is rushed as hell and im sorry but i have to leave for camp and i didnt wanna leave yall hanging soooo this is the best i can do ((might edit it up when i come back))
> 
> anyways ill be gone so if u wanna talk to me leave a message on my ig @ softdadironman bc ima be bored without fics for a week ripppp
> 
> ily all bye bye <3 be back in a week

**Author's Note:**

> wahh this is short i sowwy
> 
> ily all, im glad yall are enjoying this series <3 
> 
> ((P.S. this title is a steven universe quote!)


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